Below Her Balcony
by Striped-Tie
Summary: It's true that even the most 'meant to be' couples fight. But sometimes, you have to ask what exactly you're fighting over anymore, and if it's really worth it. ChrisxJill, Language.


A/N;

Yeah yeah, I know. I should be working on Je M'en Fous and the others. I am D: I'm just.... Writing other stuff while I'm at it DX Sorry guys.

Well this one? I've been listening to a bunch of songs by The Script lately, so, blame them for this one. Gah.

Oh yeah, I hate Microsoft Word on Windows Vista. Stupid school computers should have stuck with XP. I have enough trouble finding the word count as it is! ... Hehe, I guess this could be considered a follow up to Male Issues? It, it wasn't meant to be, and I'm sorry for writing so much CxJ ;_;

Resident Evil clearly not property of mine.

* * *

"Just get the hell out!!"

People in the hall turned their heads towards a certain apartment door, all apparently taken off guard by the sudden shout. It had been such a long time since they had heard any form of aggression behind that door, and it all sounded too familiar. People were beginning to wonder if the tenant behind the door was the problem, not the usual people her voice was direct at.

Behind the door was a rather clean apartment, not filled to the brim with junk and useless objects, but certainly not empty either. The objects inhabiting most of the rooms could be ignored, for now, as very few hand any significance. Instead, what would have drawn people's eye if they were to venture in would certainly be the woman standing on her apartment balcony.

The balcony itself was facing out towards the street, one that wasn't too busy at midday, but still had some life on it. Those people that happened to be out for a stroll or an errand held the same expression as those in the apartment building's hall. Though, as having clearer views, their own gazes held hints of interest. The balcony area was rather clean; two chairs seated near the railings, beside the woman at this point, a plant in the corner and a makeshift clothesline near the other.

Standing on the balcony, leaning over the railing slightly, was a woman in her early twenties. Her hair was brown and short, reaching just the top of her shoulders. She dressed rather plainly that day, white short-sleeved blouse and black pants. She stood in white socks; heaven knew where her shoes were.

It was, however, harder to tell her eye colour, their usual icy-blue colour barely visible due to both the redness of her eyes and the steady flow of tears.

She grabbed something from beside her, throwing it over the railings down at the rather distressed man below. He in turn had very little time to dodge it, but it was apparent he had gotten better at the whole concept – It must have all been going on for awhile now.

His own brown hair was darker than the woman's short, spiked and messy. He dressed just as simply as her, just wearing boots, jeans, a white shirt and a black jacket. Nothing too expensive or eye catching at all. The argument appeared one sided, for not once did the man yell back with any anger in his voice. No, it was more pleading than anything else. His own blue eyes, a darker shade than the woman's, looked specifically at her.

"C'mon Jill, this is nuts!"

The woman shook her head, not wanting to hear it at all. She grabbed yet another object and threw it at him, this time hitting him in the head. Thankfully, it hadn't been anything too hard, but caused him to take a step back regardless.

"Go to hell, Chris!"

The man took a step forward once again, standing his ground. He looked determined, despite both his expression and tone of voice.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jill! I'm not moving from this spot unless you're letting me back in!"

Once again an object when flying, but it hit a car close by, setting off its alarm and downing out whatever else she happened to shout as a follow up. But 'Chris' kept his word, not even flinching, just continuing to look up at her on the second floor.

"Jill! You love me and you know it! Just stop this!"

All he received was something else thrown at him, which he simply let hit him in the chest. There was nothing too hard, as she had at least been kind enough to leave out the cutlery from the kitchen. In truth, he might have had to rethink his position if she had done so.

"Come on! I'll bark if you want me to!" He cupped his hands around his mouth, raising his head and letting out a rather convincing howl. The whole thing was gathering more and more of an audience as it went by. The man's determination was something all right.

Jill grunted angrily, walking back into the apartment. He waited, expecting her to come back with more things to throw at him. But to his dismay, she didn't return. She must have gotten too frustrated to continue on with what she was doing, and simply chosen to ignore him.

He took a step closer to the building wall, still continuing to look up. He breathed in heavily, feeling his own heart beginning to break. He wasn't going to give up, not on her. Not when he knew she still cared. He wasn't in denial, or being obsessive like some others he knew. He just read her signs, her body language – The lack of knives and things that could kill him. She must have forgotten that he knew her better than any of the other men she had been with.

Jill slumped down on the couch, trying to ignore Chris shouts from the streets. She wondered why he was still trying, why he still seemed to want to hang onto her. She grabbed the TV's remote, turning it on in a hope to drown him out.

What had the fight started over? She couldn't even remember. All she knew was that she was angry, and she wanted him out. She shook off all thoughts that she might be confusing fear with anger.

Outside, Chris began to pace on the street, reaching into his pocket to try and find his packet of cigarettes. He knew he was going to be there for a while, a good long while, and he would need something to keep him occupied. He slowed his pace, kneeling down every so often to pick up some of the smaller objects that had been launched at him. Anything in one piece would be taken back up to her when she finally relented. He was sure that she would.

He slumped down on the gutter, crossing his arms over his legs. He would wait forever for her, and wait he would. He had no reason to go anywhere else, certainly not for awhile.

Both parties continued their separate waiting in their varied environments. Jill was waiting to make sure that he had left, and Chris was waiting for her to come back out. It seemed like some sort of vicious cycle. The sun was beginning to fall, and in not too far in the future, it would grow dark.

Chris idly watched a group of ants crawling across the ground. There was not much going on, as he had very little interest in the people around him. The ants just went on their way, though he did take particular notice of a certain ant pick up another injured looking one, carrying it off.

He couldn't help but be reminded of both his work and the Air Force from that small insect's act. Don't leave your mates behind, wasn't that one of the things he would drill into the minds of both his ex and current workmates? It wouldn't have been too odd if it was.

His mind ended up wondering how many times she had saved his arse; both during their dangerous jobs as well as during social concerns. She had been the one to make sure he didn't go drinking after his own relationships misfortunes, as well as state why he was better off without them. He wasn't better off without her.

There was a soft tap on his shoulder. He quickly looked up, forgetting about the ants and leaving them to their own business. A young woman, not the one he wished to see, had been the one to do so. She had a somewhat apologetic look on his face, and he assumed she had seen what had happened.

"Hey, I saw what was going on earlier," She began, proving Chris to be correct, "Sorry to see all of that."

Chris gave a nod, mumbling a quiet 'thank you' before looking back to the pavement, clasping his hands together as he thought.

"... Is she always like that?" The girl took a quick glance at the balcony. She could hear the TV blaring from inside, but was unsure of what to make of it. She looked back down to Chris, tilting her head a fraction. He answered with a soft 'no' and refrained from looking back up at her.

"How long have you been out here?" She asked a little more confidently.

"Dunno." He answered, a bit more audible than his last two words. He looked up, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter much, not really. Hey, listen. M'Sorry, I know what you're hinting at a bit there."

He saw the girl's shoulder sink, apparently already knowing that her admiration for him was rather useless. He looked back to the ground before continuing, causing the girl to listen closer in order to catch his words.

"I'm not out of love with her yet. Sorry Miss, but I'm still taken." He shook his head once again as he answered, and she shifted awkwardly, accepting half-heartily the defeat. She was curious, however.

"She seemed pretty pissed," She commented, taking another glance up at the balcony before back again. "I don't mean to be rude, but..."

Chris stopped her there, waving his hand in a motion to tell her it was time for her to move on. "She doesn't hate me. She's just scared." He stated, before the girl sighed and went on her way.

Yet again he was left on his own, and appeared content with that. He only wanted the company of one person, and he knew that he had to wait for that. However, it was only about half an hour before there was another tap on his shoulder.

Once again he idly looked up, spotting a man in uniform. Ah, how he recognized it. However, the officer didn't ring a bell. Obviously a rookie he hadn't run into yet.

"Excuse me, sir, you can't stay here." The young male officer instructed, inspiring a chuckle from Chris, who simply looked back at the ground.

"Sorry officer. Hey, I'm just waiting for someone, don't worry." He assured the officer, who seemed a little uneasy about it. Chris didn't exactly want to pull out his STARS badge and make an arse of himself. It would have just been a cruel thing to do. He would just say high to him next time he saw him at the station.

"How long will that be, sir?" the officer asked. Chris shrugged his shoulders.

"A few hours, days. Weeks, month. It really doesn't bother me how long I'll have to wait for her." Chris answered in a matter-of-fact tone, speaking the truth. As stated, he would have waited forever for the woman. Still not feeling too confident about it, the officer simply nodded and left, making a mental note to return later and check up on the man.

Once the officer was out of sight, Chris stood up. He had thought in his head, and hoped it was an appealing one.

* * *

Slowly she walked over to the balcony again. Had he left yet? It had been such a long time, he must have been mad if he hadn't. Cautiously, quietly, she crept over to the railing, taking a peek over.

She should have been happy. Finally, Redfield had gotten the idea and had left, off home no doubt. Finally, like the others, he had left, even if it had been with far more of a fuss than the others. But he had left all the same.

She turned away from the balcony, walking back to sit on the couch. She knew too well why, but would not admit her reasons for the actions that followed – She bit her bottom lip in a vain attempt to stop the sobbing sounds that escaped her throat, and covered her eyes with her hands as she sat down on the couch.

She fought, but in the end she had to let herself cry. And cry hard she did – She was sure it had never hurt as much as it did this time – She thought her heart was being torn, physically.

"He's gone, he's actually gone..." She could only whimper through the sobs, knowing she should be happy, "... He's left me... God..."

* * *

Jill stood up from the couch, dusting off her lap. She rubbed her eyes, still trying to get the burning feeling away – No-one else may have been there, but she still wished for no-one to know. Her movements were hesitant, even her body shaking seemed the same. She looked over to the balcony, the glass door leading to it still wide open. She cursed, seeing the dark skies gathering outside and the rain beginning to bucket down.

She stalked over to the door, remembering some of the washing she had left outside that would get wet if she didn't go retrieve it. She murmured a few more less than pleasant words, grabbing a few shirts from the tangled plastic wires. She whimpered, holding onto a shirt that was too large to be hers. She bit her bottom lip and looked away, over the balcony.

She froze however, upon seeing those blue eyes peered back at her again, despite blinking back the rain.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came, and she only managed to stand in response to the sight. Standing there was none other than Chris, having returned from where he had gone. He looked absolutely drenched; making it obvious he had been caught in the downpour since the beginning.

He stood not on his own this time, but holding something in his arms instead. For the around thirtieth time that day she swore words that would make Satan cry, before storming back into the apartment and throwing the dampened clothes onto the couch.

She marched over to her door, violently grabbing her keys from the rack next to the door, unlocking it clumsily before running over to the stairs, practically throwing herself down.

The door of the building opened with a loud 'SLAM', having been basically kicked open with that much force it was a surprise it was still on its hinges at all. Chris simply looked over, knowing exactly who had the ability to do such a thing.

She continued her violent walk, coming up close to the man before giving him a hard slap on his cheek, panting quite heavily from the effort of getting down there.

"What the hell are you doing down here?!" She snapped, her words separated by her gasps for air. Her fists were clenched, and eyes narrowed at the innocent seeming man. "You're going to fucking kill yourself in this weather!"

No sooner had she stated such words had he forced what he was holding into her hands. She growled lowly, wanting absolutely nothing to do with whatever it was, but soon took notice of his hands. They appeared to have been bandaged up with a roll of such that had been thrown at him earlier that day, and just the smallest speckles of red were seen at the surface of the material.

She paused, her expression changing to a more of a surprised look. She actually took the time to take a glance at what she herself was now holding, nearly taken aback by it. Her hands clenched around the crunchy colour paper, swallowing hard when her eyes met with the roses presented with her.

Suddenly the equation made sense. He had left earlier, simply as a change of tactics. He had gone to the park, not too far from the building, and handpicked most of the roses that happened to be there – In appropriate colours. It explained the bandages – He must have gotten pricked more times than she could count from doing something like that for her.

"... M'sorry."

She looked up at him. How pathetic he must have looked – His white shirt had gone see through from the rain, while the rest of the water made both his jackets and jeans feel incredibly uncomfortable. His usual spiked hair slipped over his eyes, robbing him of most of his vision. But he still stood with that same determination as he had all those hours ago.

She took a step forward, cautiously, letting the flowers rest by her side. She quietly mumbled his name, before swiftly closing the distance and wrapping her arms around him. He could feel the bouquet again his back, as well as Jill's other hand gripping his jacket tightly.

He managed to put his own arms around her, stroking her hair lightly which was made far easier with the rain that was beginning to cling to her as well. He knew more than enough that this was her version of 'I'm sorry and I love you'. It was harder for her to say those words than him, so he accepted it as it was.

"It's alright, Jill." He assured her, just able to distinguish her tears from the rain. "It's alright. I know you act tough, I know why you went ahead and chased me away. You remember why we were fighting?"

He felt her shake her head against his chest.

"'Course you were scared of me leaving. So you chased me away instead so you wouldn't have to have that happen when you loved me. I told ya when you first agreed to go out with me; I wouldn't leave unless you left me."

"... Then why didn't you?" She said quietly, just able to be heard over the rain.

"Cause your heart didn't leave." He answered simply, not saying anything other than that. He could both hear and feel her cry harder, unsure of whether she did so out of happiness that he loved her that much, or out of sadness and fear for the same reason.

Nothing else was said between the two as they finally went back into the apartment to change into warmer clothes and fall asleep together in front of the heater and still blaring TV.


End file.
